


The History of Silvilla

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Ancient History, Ancient Rome, Character Death, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, M/M, Navy, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Spain, Spanish National Team, Terrorism, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Silva and David Villa meet in six different lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 15,000 BC

David Villa, as he will be called in his next lives, but of course now he has no name, leave alone a last name, is one of the best hunters in his group. No bison or deer is safe from him. He provides food and furs for all and the other members like him and respect him.

  
There is also a boy Villa thinks likes him more than the others, but is too shy to approach him. The others sometimes mock him because he’s tiny and not a good hunter, but Villa knows the boy can find berries and herbs where no one else would look for them, and he is really skillful when it comes to making tools. None of it can match killing a big bison, of course, but Villa has respect for it.  
  
When he sees the boy in the cave, he stops and watches him with interest. The boy is holding some sort of stick, dipping it in a makeshift bowl and touching the wall with it. The stick is creating a black shape on the stones.  
  
Villa comes closer and frowns slightly, trying to understand what the shape means. Then he suddenly realizes. It‘s the bison he killed in the morning, and the smaller figure next to the bison is without a doubt supposed to be him holding a spear.  
  
“Me?” he asks, pointing at the figure and then at himself.  
  
The boy nods shyly. Villa makes an appreciative gesture.  
  
“Good.”  
  
“Not done,” the boy mumbles.  
  
He reaches for another bowl and starts filling the contours with brownish red color. Villa sits by the fire and watches him. The others invite him to go enjoy the meal with them, but he’s not hungry nor in the mood for the usual competition in boasting over who is the bravest hunter. He stays in the cave, watching the painting on the wall.  
  
The next morning he hunts down a deer and when the women prepare it, he of course gets the best part. But this time he shakes his head and passes it to the boy.  
  
“For you,” he says.  
  
The boy blushes, feeling the eyes of the others on him, but accepts the food nevertheless.  
  
“The painting,” Villa explains, maybe a bit unnecessarily. “Good. I like it.”  
  
The boy smiles, revealing his shiny white teeth, and then sinks them in the meat.  
  
*  
  
They become a strange couple then. Villa always makes sure the boy gets the best part of the animal he killed, the boy gives him necklaces for good luck. Villa sleeps next to him in the cave, protecting him from all potential dangers, the boy sharpens his tools and always gets them ready before Villa goes hunting. Villa stops boasting in front of the other hunters, the boy documents his achievements on the walls of the cave instead.  
  
*  
  
One day Villa doesn’t come back; there’s only as much luck a hunter can have. The boy doesn’t cry. He just curls up under the furs in the furthest corner of the cave. He stops speaking, stops eating, just follows the shadows the flames cast on the walls with his eyes, like he is searching for someone.  
  
One morning he’s gone, gone on a quest of searching someone he has no hope of finding in this life, but he hopes for the next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The Neanderthal way of talking is of course my imagination. It’s proven that they had the physiological dispositions to speak and it’s also believed that they had a language of some sort, that even had a syntax and system. What it looked like, though, will remain a mystery. I imagine it as highly practical and simple, with limited choice of words.


	2. 3RD century

Villa believes in the Roman gods. It’s all he’s ever known, it’s how his parents brought him up, it’s what the priests told him and he never doubted it. He’s a soldier, he doesn’t do much thinking. But he doesn’t feel appalled by Christianity; in all honesty, if it was up to him, he would let everyone believe in whatever they want to believe. Of course he never said that out loud.  
  
*  
  
Among the arrested Christians he sees one day in the cells under the amphitheater, there is a rich Roman and two of his slaves, young men, boys even. They both have exotic faces, the older boy’s hair is blonde and longish, the younger one’s on the contrary is almost black, his eyes are mesmerizingly dark and slightly slanted, his skin has olive undertone. Villa freezes the first time he sees him. It’s like something about him is familiar, even though he’s sure he’s never seen him before. The boy, David, as his master calls him, smiles at him kindly, like Villa is his friend, like everyone, the whole world, all animals and plants and even the air, are his friends. Like they are not going to kill him, or like he’s forgiving them for it already.  
  
And for the first time, Villa feels thirsty for knowledge, he wants to understand, he wants to experience the serenity and the security of something the others don’t understand.  
  
David tells him about their God, because there is just one, and when Villa asks how it is possible for him to take care of everything, David laughs, tells him that everything is possible for their God, and that he is three entities in one, draws a triangle on Villa’s palm, and Villa doesn’t care that he doesn’t understand all, he feels like he’s experiencing something magical, like he’s known David all along.  
  
*  
  
The boys’ master is beheaded shortly after they are brought in. The boys are not granted such mercy, as they are not citizens of Rome. They have to wait until the next games are held in the amphitheater, until the bloodthirsty citizens come to watch them being torn apart by wild animals.  
  
The night before the games, Villa comes down to the cell, even though he knows that he shouldn’t. But he needs to see David for the last time, to speak with him, even though he doesn’t know what he wants to say.  
  
“I’m not afraid,” David smiles at him and Villa knows that he’s indeed not, or at least it’s not the animalistic, desperate fear.  
  
“I didn’t want it to end like this,” Villa says. “I don’t want it to end like this.”  
  
“Maybe this is not the end,” David says calmly.  
  
*  
  
He’s no less calm when he walks in the arena the next day. He and the other boy embrace each other for the last time and the blonde kisses David on the forehead.  
  
Then the platform in the middle of the arena comes up and the door of the cage opens, letting the animals out. David sinks to his knees in the sand of the arena and Villa closes his eyes. He opens them again when the public goes quiet. Suddenly he is scared, or rather transfixed by the sight in front of him, because what is happening in front of his own eyes is nothing he’s ever seen before. The beasts are standing in the arena, unmoving, like it’s them who is afraid, afraid to approach the boy who is looking at them calmly. And then he sees that David is smiling. It’s subtle, but he sees the corners of his mouth curl up because he knows that he won.  
  
One of the gladiators has to slit his throat because the beasts won’t move. The public is half terrified, half disgusted, and Villa suddenly feels like he’s half-empty, like his life is over in that moment, even though his heart is still beating.  
  
*  
  
Villa dies two years later in the Battle of Edessa. Before the darkness swallows him, he hopes that what David told him about the life after death is true, and that David is waiting for him there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Those who converted to the Christian faith would be expelled from the Roman provinces or put to death by beheading, if they were Romans. The foreigners, however, were often condemned to be torn apart by animals in the arena (damnatio ad bestias), as a part of the games in the arena. According to some legends, sometimes the animals refused to attack the condemned in the arena and those had to be killed by the gladiators.
> 
> A/N: The Battle of Edessa took place in 260 AD. The army of the emperor Valerian was decimated by plague and all of the 70,000 soldiers either died in battle or were captured.


	3. 1483

In all honesty, Villa thinks that the whole conquest of the Canary Islands is a disgusting cause. There are of course things worth money on the islands, like plants and even people, but in Villa’s mind, they definitely don’t belong to the Spanish.  
  
The Castilian conquerors think otherwise. And he is a soldier serving the Queen of Castile, so he must follow the orders, no matter what he thinks of them.  
  
When they embark on Gran Canaria, they are met with resistance from the inhabitants of the isle. It’s not a surprise, but Villa sort of hoped it would be the same as it was with El Hierro or Fuerteventura. Mainly because he knows that they will easily overpower the guanches and he’s not keen on killing people who are actually only defending their land and freedom.  
  
He does it anyway.  
  
*  
  
He walks inside a tent that is actually his own to sleep in, but that the other soldiers sometimes gather in, because Villa isn’t a usual commander, he’s more of a fatherly figure to the younger and a companion to the older. In the corner of the tent there is a boy, curled up in a tiny ball, just his dark eyes are carefully watching the soldiers playing cards, and Villa, who makes a few steps towards him.  
  
“Careful, Villa!” one of his soldiers chuckles. “He’s a little bitch. Bites.”  
  
“Don’t you know the main thing about dogs, Llorente?” Villa retorts. “If you provoke them, they bite you.”  
  
Llorente just smirks and gets up from the table because he’s just lost the game.  
  
“Unless you know how to close their mouth,” he says.  
  
The boy cowers when Llorente moves, covers his face like a little child, it’s a reflex learned awfully quickly, but Llorente just looks at him and then walks out of the tent. Villa approaches the boy, despite his words still carefully, and slowly reaches up to him. Instead of fighting back, the boy freezes and lets Villa touch him, lift up his chin and look at his split lip, the bruise that is starting to form on his jaw. The boy keeps looking him in the eyes, not trying in the slightest to harm him, or bite him, as Llorente warned him. Villa’s hand moves to the boy’s shoulder. That’s when he realizes that he’s trembling.  
  
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Villa says softly, even though he knows that he most probably doesn’t understand him.  
  
He takes the blanket he sleeps under normally, and wraps it around the boy because his clothes are in the same state his face is in. The boy gives him a puzzled look.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Villa says, to keep his conscience clear and because he really is sorry. “I’m sorry for what they... we... did to you.”  
  
 _Did and will do._  Because he knows well the boy will end up as a slave, there’s nothing he can do about it, it’s not up to him.  
  
The boy is now watching him curiously, like he’s asking what it is that Villa wants, and Villa doesn’t know that himself. He wants to just sit there and look in the boy’s eyes, wants it to be his sin, his penance and his absolution.  
  
*  
  
They break down the camp the next day and head towards the ships waiting on the shore, filled with the loot. They stop for a while to catch their breath and Villa looks down from the rocks at the sea and the ships waiting there. He has the impression that the sight would have been mesmerizingly beautiful if it wasn’t for the ships, if it wasn’t for them.  
  
The boy suddenly appears next to him, reaches up to him with his bound hands, touches the small golden cross Villa wears around his neck, and the wooden necklace he has around his own neck. Villa smiles, takes his chain off his neck and holds it in his open palm. The boy takes off his necklace with some effort and places it around Villa’s neck, lowering his head slightly to allow Villa do the same to him. It would be a bad deal, but it’s not a deal, not to Villa.  
  
“Now we’re friends,” he says.  
  
The boy looks at him and smiles, and the smile is strangely sad, like it’s meant to say goodbye. Villa understands too late why.  
  
Before anyone can stop him, he makes a step back and throws himself off the cliff.


	4. 1805

“You will do it for me, right?” Admiral Roberto asks Villa, the captain of  _Santísima Trinidad_. “I wouldn’t want him to destroy his life. Sergi is a good boy. He just needs to man up, you understand.”  
  
The person in question is the Admiral’s grandson, who, as Villa understood despite the equivocations and euphemisms, fell in love with his best friend, who is unfortunately a boy. Villa has never been in love with a man, and hopefully he never will be, but he doesn’t believe that going in a battle could cure anyone of it.  
  
But the old Admiral taught him all Villa knows and he does feel indebted, so he finally agrees to taking the boy on board. He regrets it the moment he sees him.  
  
The kid is no marine, he’s utterly terrified and Villa is convinced he wouldn’t kill a rat, leave alone a man. And they are facing the British army, which is not a laughing matter. But as Villa knows the Admiral, he would prefer his grandson dead in such battle than publicly disgraced.  
  
*  
  
They leave Cádiz together with the French navy and head towards Trafalgar. Their ship is bigger than any ship the Brits have available, and it calms Villa down a little bit. Maybe their losses won’t be so big. He writes his testament the night before the battle nevertheless. He doesn’t have a wife nor children who could inherit whatever he has, but he’s a very meticulous type of person and wouldn’t want to die and leave any mess behind.  
  
In the morning, they take the formation an wait. When the British army appears, even Gerard, the helmsman and also Villa’s best friend, starts to be rather nervous, but it’s nowhere near Sergi who just keeps staring at the other ships and at the sailors getting the cannons ready.  
  
“Kid, take the bags with sand and scatter it over the deck,” Villa says.  
  
“Why?” Sergi asks.  
  
Gerard just chuckles. He knows well why. With all the blood spilled during the battle, the deck could get quite slippery.  
  
“You don’t want to know, just do it.”  
  
It’s more to keep him occupied, and it actually works and Villa can focus again on his work.  
  
Until he realizes that something is not right. The British ships are not following the usual tactics.  
  
“What the hell are they doing?” Gerard yells.  
  
“I have no idea,” Villa says truthfully.  
  
Whatever it is, it’s not good for them.  
  
“Shall we go back?” Gerard asks.  
  
“Too late,” Villa says. “We have to fight.”  
  
*  
  
After three hours of the battle, Villa decides to strike their colors and surrender, despite Gerard’s protests. It doesn’t take long until the British marines appear on the deck to take possession of the ship, already too damaged to flee anyway.  
  
One of the British aims a pistol at them despite them not being armed at all, despite telling the British that they surrender. Villa is ready to stop him, even if it should cost him his life, but in that moment, another marine appears and seizes his friend’s wrist.  
  
“Damn you, James, they said they surrendered!” he says.  
  
“Well, I don’t speak Spanish,” the other one scowls. “Maybe you should deal with them, David.”  
  
“Of course,” the marine says and switches to Spanish. “Go to the lower desk.”  
  
“You speak Spanish?” Villa asks in surprise.  
  
“Yes, I do,” the marine says, and there is only a slight accent on his words. “My mother was Spanish.”  
  
“What would she say if she saw you fighting against her country?” Gerard snickers.  
  
“I’m just protecting  _my_  country,” David says calmly. “I don’t have anything personal against you.”  
  
Well, Villa has nothing personal against the British either, but this way of thinking is almost pacific. David even looks almost apologetic when he closes the cabin door behind them.  
  
“They’re going to kill us,” Gerard says laconically.  
  
“Gerard!” Villa snaps at him.  
  
“Yes, they are, because they’re British sons of a...”  
  
“Gerard!” Villa hisses again. “Not in front of the kid.”  
  
Gerard just rolls his eyes.  
  
“He’s a lot of things, but he can’t be that naïve to believe they’ll let us go.”  
  
Villa would punch him in the face if Gerard wasn’t his best friend, but instead he just takes Sergi, who is sobbing something about not wanting to die, around his shoulders and lets him snuggle up to him.  
  
*  
  
David appears again at night. Only Villa is still awake, staring into space and trying to think, but with all of the exhaustion from the battle it’s not easy. David sits beside him.  
  
“Our Admiral is dead,” he says. “The French got him.”  
  
Villa nods. David gives him a surprised look like he expected him to rejoice. Then he glances over to Sergi who is sleeping covered by Villa’s jacket.  
  
“He’s not a marine,” he states.  
  
“No. He’s my old Admiral’s grandson.”  
  
“What did he want to punish him for?” David asks with a sad smile, like sailing on the sea can’t be anything else than a punishment.  
  
“Falling in love,” Villa says.  
  
“That’s a major offense,” David nods and Villa doesn’t know if he means it seriously or if it’s a joke.  
  
“Have you ever committed such offense?” Villa asks. “Is that why you’re on the sea?”  
  
David smiles.  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
They sit in silence for a long time, and Villa finally allows himself to stop thinking. He feels calm, and if not safe, then  _complete_. He feels that way even when David leaves and he finally allows himself to sleep.  
  
*  
  
Heavy steps above their heads wake them up and then the British soldiers enter the cabin. David is among them. He points to some of Villa’s men and then at Villa.  
  
“You’ll come with us,” he says.  
  
“Says who?” Gerard barks.  
  
“Captain Hart.”  
  
It’s so casual and calm that it shuts Gerard up because he has nothing to retort. Villa turns around and then stops.  
  
“Wait... David?”  
  
The marine stops and looks at him.  
  
“What are you going to do with us?”  
  
David hesitates, looks around like he wants to be sure nobody else is listening. But it seems that the other soldiers don’t know any Spanish anyway.  
  
“We’re supposed to take you to the land,” he says quietly. “I think they want to exchange you for some of our men the Spanish took as captives.”  
  
Villa nods, then takes Sergi around the shoulders and pushes him to David.  
  
“Take him instead.”  
  
“But...”  
  
“Please, David. Take him instead.”  
  
Sergi looks from David at Villa and grabs Villa’s arm.  
  
“No... you can’t...”  
  
“It’s going to be alright,” Villa says firmly. “Go with him.”  
  
David looks about as shocked and terrified as Sergi.  
  
“Are you sure you want it like this?” he asks.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
David nods, half for himself.  
  
“I’ll see you when you come back,” Villa smiles.  
  
David doesn’t answer, he just takes Sergi by the elbow and leads him on the upper desk.  
  
*  
  
“I asked for the captain, Silva,” Hart says when they board the British ship.  
  
“I know,” David mumbles and then looks up at him sheepishly. “But this is an admiral’s grandson.”  
  
Hart keeps eyeing him sternly, then cracks a smile.  
  
“My clever boy, aren’t you?” he says and pats David on the shoulder.  
  
Then he looks at  _Santísima Trinidad_ , turns to his men standing next to the cannons and gives the final nod.  
  
“Sink her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m sorry for any historical inaccuracies, Battle of Trafalgar and all battles on the sea aren’t my specialty. I take a lot of author’s license on this.


	5. 1973

It was Cesc’s idea. Villa is a skeptical, even too skeptical, pragmatic individual. The first time he opens up, after they have a bit too many beers with Cesc, and tells him how he constantly feels like there’s a half of him missing, he immediately regrets it. Cesc concludes that it has to do with his past lives,  _really, Villa, I read a book about that shit, let’s see if I can find it._  He falls off his bed and digs a suspiciously looking book from underneath a pile of dirty socks.  
  
Villa reads it, and 90% of him thinks that it’s crap and Cesc needs help if he believes it, but the 10% tells him that maybe,  _just maybe, theoretically speaking_ , people might not only be born once, and what if he indeed lost someone he loved in his past life?  
  
Then one evening, Cesc takes him to a shabby apartment on the outskirts of the city. The place smells of incense and cigarettes, the air so thick he’s sure he will suffocate, and an old gypsy woman is mumbling something while moving some amulet above a candle, and then she takes him by the hand.  
  
It’s like he lives thousands of years in one second. The lives are all different, he’s a hunter, a soldier, a marine. But there is constantly this one boy who appears in every single one of his lives, and always his name is David, same as Villa’s, and they always end up being separated because one of them dies.  
  
Villa is sure he is pale and shaking as they walk out of the apartment, relieved of a few hundred pesos, but he tries to hide it because he just won’t give it to Cesc that he was right in something so  _absurd._  Cesc refuses to tell him anything about his own past lives, and Villa teases him that he was a whore in all ten or so. He almost forgets about the experience, then, because he has other problems, like taking over his father’s business and breaking up with his girlfriend of eight years and saying goodbye to Cesc who one day decides that he’s fed up with Franco and emigrates to Britain.  
  
*  
  
And then he meets him one day, without even searching for him. It’s David who finds him, who stops by in his grocery store to buy a bottle of water. He’s not wearing fur, a toga nor a uniform, he’s wearing a suit and a tie, but Villa knows that it’s him. It turns out that he drives past Villa’s shop every Sunday when he drives his boss to church and back. And Villa knows that this time he can’t let this chance slip.  
  
“Maybe you’re not going to talk to me anymore when I tell you who I work for,” David tells him one day when they are having dinner at Villa’s place.  
  
“Why?” Villa asks, digging in his plate of pasta.  
  
“Well, it depends on your political views.”  
  
“Those don’t exist, I actually don’t give a crap.”  
  
David smiles.  
  
“I work for the President of the Government.”  
  
“Well, fuck me. Are you sure you can keep seeing someone who sells onions?”  
  
“I’m just a driver,” David chuckles. “I can see whoever I want.”  
  
David doesn’t seem to remember Villa from the past lives, because he apparently didn’t go to any weird woman to find out, and Villa isn’t going to tell him, because he would look like a freak on drugs. But his time Villa is sure it’s going to work. After all, they’re not living in the prehistoric age with wild animals, there is no evil emperor, they are not soldiers, marines, they are a driver and a grocer and they live in a civilized world. There’s nothing that could go possibly wrong this time.  
  
*  
  
The morning is grey and cloudy, lazy weather that calls for spending the day in bed with a good book or better, with someone’s warm body making the cold go away. Villa walks out of the shop and almost bumps into a man in a grey overall who is carrying a big leather bag. Another man in the same overall is already bent over something on the sidewalk in front of Villa’s shop.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Villa frowns.  
  
It’s Sunday, he thought he was the only one working in a 100 km radius.  
  
The man fixes his too-long bangs –  _he needs a haircut, who wears their hair like this nowadays, except of David, but David is a special case,_  Villa muses – and looks him straight in the eyes.  
  
“We’re electricians,” he says in an annoyed voice. “Do you want to see the authorization?”  
  
“No,” Villa says. “Just make sure I’m not left without electricity for the next two weeks.”  
  
The man smirks and touches his hair again, and it sort of annoys Villa.  _Dandy electrician, the world is going to hell._  The other one – who is at least bald - makes an impatient gesture and Villa goes back behind the counter. He sells a pack of cigarettes and gets into a fight with a lady who is surprised that his vegetable isn’t fresh on a Sunday.  
  
Villa looks at the clock. The Mass has to be over now. A young boy walks on a balcony in the house across the street, lights a cigarette and watches the road. Villa walks out just as the familiar car appears.  
  
He connects the dots too late. The nod the boy on the balcony gives seemingly to nobody, the Basque accent on the electrician’s words, the way the bald man is watching the car approaching. He moves, too slowly and too late.  
  
“Ander, _orain!_ ” the bald one shouts.  
  
The explosion is so big that the car flies  _over a fucking house_  and there is a huge crater left where only seconds ago was the road and the cars parked on the sides.  
  
Villa is standing there like he’s frozen, half-deaf from the explosion. The two men are gone. The boy from the balcony is gone. There are just the voices of the people around, running away in panic, and the sound of the sirens, and the empty feeling in his heart that tells him that there is no hope.  
  
It turns out that the three men loaned an apartment opposite to Villa’s shop, and dug  _a fucking tunnel_ under the road. The police questions the landlord, but the landlord is a half-deaf, half-blind old man who even had no idea that the men were Basques and who just remembers that “the small one was constantly throwing cigarette ends on the sidewalk, making a mess”. He doesn’t remember what they looked like, the names on the contract are of course false, Villa knows it right away because none of the names is Ander while he remembers clearly it was what the bald one called the one with bangs. The man’s face is carved into Villa’s mind, but he’s not a police officer, he just owns a grocery store and the police officer listens to him, scribbles one or two things in his notepad and Villa doesn’t hear from him ever again.  
  
He’s all alone again, but at least he now knows one thing. When one of them dies, the other one never lives for too long afterwards.  
  
Villa dies from cancer three years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was inspired by Operación Ogro, the assassination of Luis Carrero Blanco, the President of the Government, by ETA in 1973.
> 
> A/N: My Basque boys as terrorists, I’m going to hell.


	6. 2005

Villa plays on a few teams before coming to Valencia, but he never feels the way he feels the first time he meets David. It’s not just that they are perfectly compatible on the pitch, they are perfectly compatible off it as well. They just fit together, complement each other like whipped cream complements hot chocolate (it’s David’s comparison and Villa would never dare to roll his eyes at it), their bodies were made for each other like two pieces of puzzle and their minds follow the same lines.  
  
“Do you believe in past lives?” David asks Villa one day when they are a bit tipsy and watching the stars from a balcony of David’s apartment in Valencia.  
  
“Like... in reincarnations?” Villa raises his brows.  
  
“Maybe. I mean, like that if something doesn’t work out in one life, you’re born again and get another chance. Because the universe wants you to be happy after all.”  
  
Villa thinks for a while, spinning the wine in his glass.  
  
“I don’t know. Maybe it makes sense.”  
  
“I get dreams sometimes,” David says. “About me and you. But we are not really me and you... it’s weird.”  
  
“And who are we?” Villa asks with an amused smile.  
  
“It’s different every time,” David shrugs. “But we meet, and there’s something between us, like we are soulmates. And then...”  
  
“Then what?”  
  
“Then one of us dies.”  
  
Villa smiles and pulls him closer.  
  
“Don’t you dare to die on me now,” he whispers.  
  
“Nor you on me,” David smiles.  
  
“I would never,” Villa says. “I think after the two thousand years or so, it’s high time for the universe to stop screwing us.”  
  
David grins and him and looks up to the sky.  
  
“I hope the universe thinks the same.”  



End file.
